When You Dream, Dream of Me
by A-Dream's-Nightmare
Summary: Their life was simple, normal, and happy. Grant and Skye were married with two kids and a successful security company. Then that all changed when they died... Then woke up again and the world was not their own. Nor the next one. Or the one after that. In the end, what is real and what is dream?
1. Chapter 1

_"Dancing bears, painted wings_

_Things I almost remember_

_And a song someone sings_

_Once upon a December_

_Someone holds me safe and warm_

_Horses prance through a silver storm_

_Figures dancing gracefully_

_Across my memory…"_

The music was ominous, yet beautiful in its own way, like a lullaby that was more than a lullaby. He liked such lullabies, they weren't full of silly words and things that only happened in fairytales, they were real and taught lessons and the tune was melodious. Something he could hum under his breath while he worked and no one would be the wiser that it was a lullaby his wife would sometimes sing to their children.

And he could sing this one in Russian, a fact his children loved and his darling wife abhorred. But only because she couldn't speak Russian.

"You're doing it again," she reminded him and then Grant Ward felt a pair of lips settle on his own, if only to shut him up. He smirked against her lips and kissed her back, one of his arms snaking around her waist and pulling her into his lap.

"Doing what?" he asked coyly, knowing exactly what she was upset about but loving how she lightly bit his bottom lip in retaliation. In the background, he could still hear the movie playing in the kitchen, where their children were eating a snack and watching their favorite movie.

Skye bit his lip again, a little bit harder than necessary because she knew he enjoyed it so much -masochist- then leaned back to give him a sour look. "You're singing along in Russian," she chastised him. Grant couldn't help it; he chuckled. It was so easy to rile her up just by speaking Russian. He never really did find out why she didn't like the language so much, even more so the fact that she married a man who was half-Russian. Their wedding had been _such_ an affair, with her making faces when half his entire family didn't speak English.

"The movie's in English, Grant," she hit his shoulder for laughing," If you want to sing children's songs so bad, do it in the right language."

"We have 'Anastasia' in Russian, you know," he reminded her. Which they only had because he got it for Leah's fourth birthday, just to piss Skye off.

She pinched him for that comment, but he laughed it off. "I wish you'd just let me teach you," he gathered her back into his arms and pulled her forward til he could rest his forehead on hers.

A smile flitted across her face, and for a second he was a little hopeful but then she was shaking her head. "Nope," she said, making a popping sound with her mouth on the 'p'," There are only two languages I'm ever going to speak: English and computers."

Still, he tried. "Think of how surprised Gramsy would be."

"_Never_."

At that moment, one of their daughter's -Danila by the sound of it- shouted something Russian from the kitchen. Grant outright laughed when Skye swore under her breath, cursing him for ever teaching their daughters. "Traitor!" she shouted back to her ten year old daughter, which prompted a giggling fit in the kitchen. "What did she say?" she demanded of her husband.

"Not telling," he shook his head, smiling like a maniac. Skye pursed her lips, and it looked like she was considering headbutting him -it wouldn't be the first time- but then he was saved by the bell, literally.

"Auntie!" With a shriek, Danila tore out of the kitchen and past her parents in the dining room, her six year old sister toddling after her. "Auntie's here!" Leah paused long enough to tell them, as if they didn't already know, turning sideways to face them, then spinning in a smooth circle to continue her run to the front door. Skye seriously envied her daughters; she most _definitely_ did not have that kind of grace at that age. She blamed Grant.

"Hi ho, off to work we go," she hummed lightly and hopped off her husband's lap. Grant made a little noise in the back of his throat at the lack of contact, but she silenced that with a kiss. "Your stuff ready?" she asked, nodding her head to his stuff spread out on the dining room table. Together, they gathered up his equipment in their individual boxes -locks for doors and windows, some security key pads, cameras, and a whole bunch of other tools- and got it into a large black duffle bag. Lastly, Skye placed one of her many laptops on top and they were ready.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I love having my wife as my partner?" Grant gave her a kiss on the cheek, shouldering the bag. He meant it; when he first started this private security firm it was just him and his friend, Leo Fitz. With the two of them, they got along just fine, especially with the hardware stuff. But Skye was a master computer specialist and now, years later there still wasn't anyone who could bypass their security, either physically or virtually.

"Flatterer," she smiled at him, but kissed him back.

By the time they reached the front door, Danila and Leah were already wrapped up in Grant's sister's arms, all three of them whispering in Russian. "Thank you so much for watching the girls, Natasha," Skye thanked her sister-in-law, reaching around her daughters to give her a quick hug. Grant gave her a quick kiss on either cheek.

"I love these two," Natasha grinned, her red curly hair swishing slightly as she eskimo kissed Leah," I just might steal them forever." Grant and Skye just rolled their eyes; Natasha threatened to steal their children and run away to Russia all the time.

Grant and Skye quickly kissed their two girls bye, reminded them to listen to Auntie Natasha, and Grant had to remind his sister that he did not want to find his babies scaling the side of the house. Again. "Never know when it'll come in handy," Natasha waved him off. Grant bit his cheek; he was more worried about one of them using those skills when they were older for sneaking out to be a with a boy.

Just then, his pager pinged. "Better go," Skye nearly had to pull him out the door," We don't want to make Mr. Fury wait."

Grant followed her to the car, laughing. "Admit it, you're scared of him," he teased, throwing their bag into the bag seat before taking the driver's spot.

Skye stuck a tongue out at him," He's a scary man. Anyone with an eye patch and black trench coat is. Besides, who even wears a trench coat any more?"

He didn't have an answer for her, indeed he thought Nick Fury was a little eccentric too, and so he just put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway. Natasha, Danila, and Leah stood on the porch steps, waving bye. Grant held a hand out the window in some semblence of a wave while Skye blew kisses to their girls. "Bye bye!" they could hear Leah, her little hand waving furiously and her smile wide and bright.

He felt the slight bump of the car as the rear tires hit the small indent between driveway and street, followed by a second when front tires did the same. He was just about to switch to drive, and turn the steering wheel when he heard Skye scream," Grant!"

Her voice was full of terror and panic and instantly Grant felt his blood run cold. Looking at her, her face was pale white, her mouth open in a scream, and her eyes wide and staring at him. No, not at him. _Behind_ him. He turned his head, so fast it hurt his neck, just in time to see a massive black SUV barreling their way, going much much _much_ too fast for their quiet little neighborhood. He just had time to see a too white grin behind the wheel and then-

.

.

.

.

"_Grant_!"

-impact.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Grant_!"

Skye shot up in bed, the name and scream still on her lips. She could still feel the terror, the image of that big truck heading straight for them, she could still see him as he turned just in time to see it hit them. It felt so…real. The fear, all of it…real.

"Skye?" A sleepy voice spoke beside her and her boyfriend, Miles, sat up with a worried look on his face," What's wrong?" He sounded so concerned, so worried, and Skye leaned into his embrace when he slung an arm around her small shoulders.

"Just a nightmare," she murmured back, trying to get her breathing to something less than hyperventilating. She waited for it to pass, the fear and the memory of the dream, but none of it did. She could still remember _everything_, not just the crash, but that…other life. The one where she was married to another man and had a family. But that wasn't her life; that wasn't _real_.

Miles waited patiently -he was always so patient with her- and let her lean against him for support. This wasn't her first nightmare; her childhood responsible for most. But this was the first time she'd screamed like that upon waking. That scream had been filled with complete terror and even Miles' blood ran cold. It was only when she was calm that he dared ask," Skye… who's Grant?"

She looked at him with the kind of confusion that couldn't be faked. Then her eyes misted over, as if the mere mention of that name upset her, and her face turned to one of despair. "I…I don't know," she confessed," Miles, I dreamed we died; killed by a car. But Miles…why am I dreaming of someone I don't know dying?"

He did not have an answer for her, so he just pulled her into a hug," It was just a dream, sweetie. You're okay. Everything's okay."

But if it was just a dream, why did it feel like it really happened?

* * *

The room was bright, sickeningly bright, even before he opened his eyes. Were those flourescent lights? Funny, last time he checked his bunk had plain old light bulbs. "Ward," he could hear someone calling him, though it sounded faint and fuzzy," Ward, wake up will you?" The voice was plainly annoyed and with a familiar scottish accent.

'_Fitz?'_ He tried to respond, but his tongue felt numb and his jaw hurt, so it came out more like," Fif?" Why was his security partner here? He and Skye had just been on their way to-

Oh no, he and Skye had-

But wait, who was Skye? And Fitz wasn't his security partner, he was their engineer scientist. '_Just how hard did I hit my head?'_ he wondered and forced his eyes open.

He was laying on the table in the lab. At least that explained the flourescent lights. Fitz and Simmons were hovering over him, Jemma with a concerned expression and Fitz with a nonchalant one. "Enjoy your little nap?" he asked, then exclaimed," Ow!" when Simmons whacked his arm.

"Shush," she scolded him, then checked Ward over for any injuries. "There's a very large chance you have a concussion, Ward," she told him.

He just shrugged," Well, that explains the weird dream I just had."

"Dream?" Coulson asked and Ward looked up to see his boss standing in the doorway of the lab. Behind him, Ward could see that the cargo ramp of the Bus was lowered, so he could tell that they were landed. Where, he had no idea.

Ward almost laughed as he remembered his dream. It was all still so clear, and it felt real and honestly it really did feel like 'that' morning happened.

"I was married," he shook his head, thinking,'_But that's ridiculous.'_ "And I had kids, two little girls called Danila and Leah," he continued, a small smile coming to his face at the memory of those two sweet angels he loved so much. Why did it all have to be just a dream?

"That's adorable," he heard Jemma sigh in awe

"It was just a concussion induced dream, Jem," Fitz reminded her, and while she shoved his shoulder for ruining the moment, the smile fell from Ward's face.

'_Just a dream,_' echoed in his head, and for some reason that just felt…wrong. _'I can remember…everything. The company I started, the day I met her, our wedding_…" he thought,' _That's too specific to be 'just a dream'…right?' _And yet, he also dreamed he had a happy family and his sister was Natasha Romanov. Yeah, that wasn't real.

And yet…he wished it was.

* * *

Later that day, after Simmons concluded that Ward was okay -the concussion was relatively minor- the team got back to work. "Tell me you found out what they were after?" Coulson asked, addressing the team as they stood around the holotable. Everyone looked to May, who just finished 'questioning' a member of the terrorist group they were after. The man had been caught just this morning, which ultimately ended with Ward's knock out and concussion. '_And dream_,' he reminded himself, though he didn't know why. He still could remember everything, and it was likely the memories of that fake life would never go away. Oh well, at least he'd have the fake memory of being happy.

"The Rising Tide," Melinda May announced, standing ram rod straight with her arms at her side and her face in a no-nonsense expression. It was her only expression.

"That hacker group?" Ward was dubious," What do they have to do with the Evolutionaries?" Being the terrorist group that insisted they were purging the world of lesser beings and making room for the ones that 'evolve into a higher being'.

"A member of the Rising Tide," May corrected," They believe this particular member could be the key to their 'mission'." Even May couldn't help but roll her eyes at the mention of the Evolutionaries so called 'mission'. "Our new friend told me that whoever it is is already one of the 'higher beings'." This time, there was no sarcasm present.

Simmons was the first to realize why. "Do you think it's a Gifted?" she asked incredulously," Someone with powers?"

Ward groaned. He hated dealing with people on the Index list.

"An unregistered one then," Coulson added," We don't have anyone on the list who's part of the Rising Tide." Great, just great, that's even worse. Coulson ignored Ward's little outburst and asked May," Any idea how to find him?"

She just handed him a slip of paper with an IP address written on it, courtesy of her 'new friend'.

* * *

"Are you sure you'll be okay without me?" Miles asked for the fifth time as he threw his suitcase into the trunk of his car. A beat up old Pontiac, but he loved it just as much Skye loved her van. "I could stay another couple days, you know," he told her, but they both knew he really couldn't.

Skye smiled reassuringly at him," I'll be fine. It was just a dream."

"One you're still freaking out over," he reminded her.

It was true and she wished he didn't know her well enough to know that. Instead, she just rolled her eyes," Miles, I'll be fine. Go!" She playfully shoved him towards his car, laughing when he nearly lost his footing," We finally tracked down Centipede to Los Angeles; go find them before we lose it again."

The reminder sobered him up and he frowned. True, he needed to track down Centipede to find out what they're doing and maybe get more information on SHIELD, but he really wished Skye could come with him. Multiple times he'd asked her to. Yet as a co-founder of the Rising Tide, Skye had a certain amount of responsibility, namely continuing their own work here and keeping other local hackers in line. Skye took great joy in finding hackers that sold information for money, then making a trail leading straight to them for the police to find. After she anonymously tipped them off course.

"I'll call as soon as I reach California," he gave her a quick kiss, then piled into his car. He watched Skye wave goodbye to him in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

* * *

"Austin, Texas?"

May had already headed for the cockpit to change their course while the rest of the team stood around in the lounge. Fitzsimmons was messing with their gadgets -he had no idea what- and Ward took the opportunity to talk to Coulson.

"You okay, Ward?" Coulson questioned, completely ignoring his own question about their destination," You seem a little out of it." Well, that could be because Ward felt a little out of it. Namely, he felt like a different person. One with a wife and kids and a completely normal life.

He sighed, sparing a glance at the two scientists to make sure they weren't listening. "It's the dream, sir," he admitted," I can't seem to shake it."

"How so?"

'How so' indeed? How could he explain this? "It felt…real," he continued, trying to find the right words," It was more than…I remember everything, little details that shouldn't even be there. It feels like I've lived another life, like I have two sets of memories." He gazed at his boss, worry evident in his eyes," Does that make me crazy?"

"No," Coulson's answer was immediate, but he took his time with the rest of his response," Sometimes Ward, a dream is more than a dream. Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something." Ward seriously doubted that.

"I'm having a little trouble telling what's real and what's not," he replied with a dark and grieved expression," At lunch, I made three extra sandwiches. Two with the crusts cut off for-" he halted before he could say their names. Danila and Leah. His two beautiful little angels. Who didn't _exist_. "Half of me keeps expecting to see them," if his voice was cracking just the tiniest bit, he could blame it on stress," and I have to keep reminding myself they're not real."

A long moment paused in which Coulson stared at him, and Ward knew how crazy he sounded. Just completely and utterly crazy. Dear God, he was having an identity crises! If Ward had been in Coulson's shoes right now, listening to this the first thing he'd recommend is send them to the looney bin. '_It's official,_' he remembered thinking at lunch, when he looked down and saw those three extra sandwiches. Two PB&J's with crusts cut off and one BLT, made just how Skye liked it, and Grant had to sit down,' _I've lost my mind. I'm fucking crazy.'_

That's what Coulson could've said, what he should've said, but instead," Who was she?" came out of his mouth. Ward looked up in surprise," What?"

"Your wife," Coulson repeated, and to Ward it actually didn't sound that foreign or strange," Who was she?"

And right then Ward realized he was in bigger trouble than he previously thought. "I don't know." That was the root of the problem, that's what made this all that much worse. "I know exactly who she is in my dream, but here? In real life? I have no idea. I've never met anyone like her, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't exist in this world."

"Her _name_, Grant."

…"Skye. Her name was Skye Ward."

* * *

Skye found herself humming a tune that night while she heated up some macaroni and cheese dinner. At first, she didn't even realize what it was, then as she began singing it out loud her heart skipped a beat. "Oh my God," she gasped, almost dropping the bowl of noodles on the floor when she realized she had been singing 'Once Upon a December'. In _Russian_. She didn't even know Russian! '_But you've heard Grant sing it enough times to at least know the words,' _some inner voice she had reminded her and this time she really did have to sit down.

'_Grant Ward doesn't exist!' _she yelled back at her inner voice. And the worst part…she's checked. Did you know there are 178 Grant Wards in the United States alone? How was she supposed to find out which one she dreamed about if she couldn't be sure what facts were true or not? And she's already dismissed their security company as just a figment of her imagination: Shield Security, really?

…And there were no Danila Wards or Leah Wards…

'_Maybe you should check in Russia_,' there was that stupid inner voice again. Goddamnit! Fuck Russia! At this rate, Skye really was going to hate Russia; she's already sworn she'll never go there for as long as she lived. If only because everything there would just remind her of a man who didn't exist. Great, now she was starting to cry. Stupid dream and stupid fake perfect husband. Why couldn't she dream about a douchebag husband, or a jerk? That way she could happily forget him and forget she had that stupid dream in the first place. But she couldn't! She couldn't forget that other life, with him and his stupid attractive face, and how stupidly happy she was.

'_Fuck it,_' Skye swore mentally and out loud and picked up her laptop. A few keystrokes later and music started playing from the speakers.

"_Dancing bears, painted wings_

_Things I almost remember…"_

* * *

The apartment building was fairly large, at least five stories tall. Though that was to be expected when it was located right in the middle of the city, surrounded by skyscrapers and other tall apartment buildings. But still… "You can't narrow it down, Fitz?" Ward asked though he had dim hope of him doing so, even as he and Coulson stared up at the building.

"Sorry, Ward," Fitz apologized over the inner ear comms," Something's jamming the signal and making it incredibly difficult to trace it. But I'm fairly certain it's this building the IP address originates from. Try the east side. It seems to be stronger there."

Ward and Coulson inspected the east side of the building where there was a well lit alley between this building and the next. "25 to 30 apartments," Coulson mused," Shouldn't be too hard."

"Sir, what's the plan here? Knock on every door and ask,' Hi, you don't happen to be a member of the Rising Tide and/or have magical powers?"

"Fitz, don't be ridiculous," Simmons reprimanded him.

There was probably a retort on Fitz part, and he think he might've heard Coulson say something to both of them, but Ward wasn't really paying attention. No, he was listening to something else entirely. Music, a song, was playing nearby and the notes echoed lightly between the walls until they reached him.

"-ard? Ward?" Finally, he heard Coulson calling his name.

"Sir, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

_"-dancing gracefully_

_Across my memory"_

The music grew louder, the loud and familiar humming verse echoing clearly throughout the alley. He knew that song. It called to him and though it was faint, to him it was a loud ringing in his ears. "This way," he barely heard himself say, moving without even waiting for Coulson.

"What? Wait up!" Coulson hurried after him," Agent Ward, what are you doing?" But he didn't answer, intent on following that music, which even Coulson could hear now.

"_Far away, long ago_

_Glowing dim as an ember_

_Things my heart used to know_

_Things it yearns to remember…"_

* * *

Skye sang under her breath, thankfully in English, as the song came to a close. You know, when it's in a language she actually knows, it's not a bad song. A little macabre for her taste, but it had such a catchy tune.

Bam! Bam! Someone banged on the door to her little van just as the music faded and Skye jumped so high her head hit the ceiling. What the fuck?!

"Hello?" a male voice called out, followed by a more polite knock -who the hell knocks on a van anyways?-," This is Phil Coulson, I'd like to speak with you for a moment, please." Well, at least he's polite.

'_Shit shit shit_,' Skye mentally swore, lunging for her computer. A click later, she pulled up footage of the camera she placed outside her van -yes, she has a camera watching her van. It's for moments like this one- and then she saw them. Well, their backs, but they were wearing black suits. The camera automatically zoomed in a badge it located, being held in one of their hands. Soon, Skye was staring at a SHEILD badge.

'_Double shit!'_

Mentally going over her options, Skye looked around, trying to figure out what to do. Her best bet was to just drive away, but silly her, she left the keys up in Miles apartment. So that left option two-

Bang! "Hello?"

Without saying a word, Skye pressed the play button on her computer -she'd need some background noise to cover up her sounds- and picked up her cup of hot tea while 'Riot Girl' by Good Charlotte played loudly. Oh, that's perfect; Skye knew she loved her playlist for a reason.

Bang! "We know you're in there." But still Skye didn't answer, she just waited with her cup for that door to slide open. They didn't let her down.

"_My girl's a hot girl_

_A riot girl-"_

The van door slid open with a bang and Skye got a glimpse of black suit and white shirt before she threw the hot tea in his face. "Argh!" he yelled out in surprise and pain, his hands coming up to cover his face a moment too late. Before anyone could react, Skye took a flying leap at him. Simultaneously, her legs wrapped around his waist and pinned his arms to his sides while her right elbow swung around to slam into the side of his head. Both blows combined threw him off balance and while Skye thought he might fall over backwards, a larger part of her was freaking out. How the hell did she know how to do that?!

He did not, however, fall over and with a strength she did not expect, he pried his arms out from under her legs, forcing her higher up on his body. In some deep part of her, some part ruled by instinct and muscle memory, Skye reacted in a way she did not plan and then her legs wrapped around his neck and she was twisting her entire body in a way completely not normal. Her twisting took him with her and they both crashed to the ground. His back hit the pavement in a way she knew knocked the air out of him and she easily and smoothly rolled off him, still freaking out. _'How the fuck am I doing this?! I was just planning on throwing the tea and running past them!'_

She took a moment too long mentally screaming and it gave the man in suit time to get to his feet, faster than she thought humanly possible. But when he came at her, arm swinging in a mean punch, her body once again acted on instinct. Blow for blow, she either deflected -damn! That hurt her arms!- but mostly just dodged. Then all of a sudden, one of his hands grabbed her shoulder and pushed. Her back hit the opposite wall and then he was on her. A forearm pressed against her throat but not enough to choke, the other hand pinning both hands between their chests, and a knee pressed into her stomach to hold her there.

"Fuck!" Skye swore. She was screwed. Royally and sideways.

Then… "Skye?" he sounded out of breath in a way that had nothing to do with their fight, but in a way that sounded awed and shocked.

Skye opened her eyes -when had she closed them?- and came face to face with her husband, Grant Ward.


End file.
